


Each others curse

by Sleepless_chax



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8163082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_chax/pseuds/Sleepless_chax
Summary: Xavier and Damien awake after a year of apparent death in an apocalyptic world. Damien is cursed with emotions that are not his and Xavier experiences pain that belongs to Damien. Will they find each other or will they forever be condemned?





	

With a sigh, I file off the bus. A boy sniggers and I look up thinking he will be looking at me, he isn't. Seeing Dena across the corridor, I shove my hands in my pocket and lower my head. Months ago if she had seen me like this we would have gone to tutor together, now she doesn't notice me- it stings. I sit at my usual empty table for tutor. The boys across the room struggle for seats with too much hatred for me to not sit at the three empty seats. The lessons drone by and I try to not answer as many questions as I could. In order to fix my reputation I need to stop being such a nerd. When I am asked to read aloud, I deny even though I don't think I can deal with the idiotic zombies who struggle over the easiest of words much longer. It doesn't stop the people's thoughts about me. A couple times drawing the day I catch my reflection in a window. It's ugly and weird. My uniform doesn't fit properly and my short hair is messy and unstyled, I keep my mouth shut tightly to avoid anybody seeing my hideous teeth. Walking around I attempt to straighten my back, slouching hurts. I am an akward kind of tall, well average height, taller than other's in my year but obviously some people are taller- I'm the smallest in my family. My thighs are large and when I walk I have an unmistakable connection to a knome- sort of side to sode with my head an shoulders. Acne coats my shoulders, back and front with spots dotted over my face. On most days my hair is a tousled mess as I wipe my sweaty palms across it during class, on others it is just plain greasy. Nobody would ever define my bony hands, long legs or weirdly shaped nose as pretty. Nobody would ever describe me pretty even with the big breasts of which I despise. The strap on my bag gets caught on an armrest and I have to push the line of people behind me backwards to unhook it- they look annoyed and I blush a red hating to draw attention to myself. Finally I take my seat at the middle of the bus behind all the orange girls and their glittery iphones and ratty voices. Once my music is blasting through my headphones I lean back into the scratchy red and yellow seats and watch the middle isle. The twins with different coloured hair and bored sounding voices walk past with the girl who's sister committed suicide a couple years back. An older thai boy with an athletic build is followed by his younger brother with a man bun. After all the people I have recognised have moved past I close my eyes listening to the lyrics. They are so emotional and deep and make me want to cry and laugh and scream. For a second I wish I was in my room home alone so I could sing out the words nice and loud without a thought about the screechiness of my voice. As the bus starts somebody clears their throat. I open my eyes to see a tall boy. His hair is a long and shaggy flaxen. With twinkling blue eyes he gestures to the seat next to me. No other seats are available but I am caught like a deer in the headlights by the boys eyes. The blue is so pure, like the ocean as the sun reflects onto it. The black under the ocean is deep, endless, utterly black as such of a vacuum. But if his eyes are windows to his soul he has a sad soul. The boy clears his throat. Nervously I smile and move my bags over to my lap. How do I usually sit? What do I do with my hands? Should I smile? Avoiding the urge to wipe my sweaty palms on my trouser leg, I carefully watch the boy. His head pointed past me as he looked out the window at the blurring trees. Somebody calls his name behind me. The guys pupils are dialated and by the way he sways it is easy to see he is high. Lazily he has his arm draped around a girl wearing layers of makeup with perfect teeth and long blonde hair. Her smile is platinum as she plays on her phone with a blue penguin case. She wears dark black, long eyelashes. Without thought I visualize her in starbucks with a skinny latte. Turning away at the sight of the pair crashing their lips together I sink further into the seat. I delve through my bag; past loose change; balls of paper; the keys which bare into my pen coated fingers and a the book I won't ever finish, until I find my notebook. Flipping past the pages where I have scrawled in homework, fake PE notes and poems, I reach a clean page. As I realise the boy is attempting to read over my shoulder I curl away and bring the book to my knees. At the top of the page I write in cursive. 'A poem from a sad day.' I drone on down the page until I have line after line of symbolism stuffed babble. Finally the bus groans to a stop. Grey clouds hang over the towering trees as I maneuver through the forest ignoring the bag banging against my leg. Leaves float through the air on the breeze and I almost drop my bag and dance in it. I wish I could just stop and stare at the world- just see what happens. But I also want something to happen to me, something that utterly changes my life. I don't think it will ever happen though. As I shuffle through the crisp amber leaves something hits my side. I fall to the ground with a body on top of me who pants hurriedly. Shoving him off I scramble to my feet. "Oh it's you," Damien hisses. I flip him off which makes him snigger. "Why the hell did you run into me?" I spit. He laughs a little more before quieting and snapping his eyes to my shoes up to my eyes with a disapproving expression. I roll my eyes and tap my foot waiting for an answer. He steos back a little drawing his shoulders back. "You see I have these things called friends, they're quite cool to be honest- basically they're people who like you, well not you, obviously, they like me," I leap at him angry. Throwing a wild punch I lean my body weight to my left foot. He pins me to the ground when I land my fist at his face. "We were playing manhunt," he hisses before I pull him over so I am holding his elbows to the ground. I get ready to knee him in the groin before I fly off him. Colours blur together and I hear a cry in the distance. There is a flash and a scream and a bang and a hiss and silence and darkness. Utter darkness. 2 A sharp ringing peirces my head. I scream and open my eyes letting the colours blur into a giant mass. There is a warm feeling at my wrist before millions of tiny pins stab into my skin. Yelping in pain I listen out for the shout of doctors. Nothing. That means I am in an ok condition, doesn't it? Rapidly I blink, clearing away the blur. My sister stands beside me, her face painted with worry. Her hand reaches up to my forehead. I scream in pain as she seems to rip it open with her nails. She jerks back. The pain instantly resides and I sink back into the pillows letting my breathing even out my other pains. Finally I manage to squeak. "What happened?" My voice is deeper than usual but my throat is sore and I can put it down to thirst. "Can I get some water?" My sister shakes her head slightly. "Xavier," she starts before she turns away from me. "We don't have enough water for you," she sighs. "Why not? What happened?" "There are only enough water for us all if you have none," she sighs. "We saw you on the ground and we only brought you back to see if we could find what happened." "What the fuck are you talking about Cecily?" She slams a palm over my mouth, I scream as agonising pain bursts out from my lips. "My name is Freya," she hisses. Black dots appear in my vision. As I begin to fade into an abundance of colours my sister takes her hand away and the pain vanishes. I look around the room for something to protect me. It's bare with a rotting wooden crate next to the bed I am lieing on. Candles light the room and the heavy curtains are drawn to hide the night's darkness. "Where are we?" I choke out. She turns away as I pull myself to sitting. Her head lowers a little looking at the door handle. "Police station," she tells me stumbling over her words a little. "I'm sorry Xavier," she whispers through her teeth. She swivels brandishing a sharp metal blade. She charges forward. I am shouting at her to stop as she takes each step. Soon she is beside me staring down with tearful eyes. Her knife held against my chest. "Cecily, what?" She pushes the knife forward. I grab at it as it clatters to the ground. A small line of blood pours down my torso as I point the blade toward my sister. With wide eyes she oeaps away from me and to the door. Banging the wood and screaming, she avoids eye contact. I scream and throw the knife toward her. Straight through her heart. With a final scream she falls to the ground. Closing my eyes I let tears roll down my cheek. The door squeaks open and somebody approaches me. Seconds later a needle is pushed into my neck. 3 I wake as a horrifying sadness seeps into my body. Guilt and confusion and utter depression flows over my body in massive waves that i fear will crush me. Tears are rolling down my cheek without me realising before I can even find out where I am. Then the feeling fades quickly replaced with a drowsiness before I can stand normal with no more overwhelming emotions messing with my head. I am in a white room with a white metal bed and a large blue curtain encasing the bed. It's a hospital-a silent hospital. "Hello," I call. "Anybody there," there is no response. I begin to pull myself out of bed with the intention to explore. Somebody brought me here... or at least claled the ambulance. Somebody appears in front of the curtain. Though they don't wear scrubs I question them. "Hello? Where am I?" They wear a shocked expression for a small amount of invisible seconds before it is replaced with an unreadable frown. "Damien," he hisses. "You were dead. What the hell happened?" I stare at him, he probably escaped from the crazy ward, should I be scared? He empties his throat and straightens. "My name is General Dex, you may adress me as either sir or general. I shall expect you to be beside me at all times until I can figure out how the hell you are alive." I splutter into giggles. "Where's a doctor?" I ask the crazy man before changing my tactics. "Doctor, there's a crazy man on the loose!" I shout but my words bounce off the walls. The man rushes forward gripping my throat tightly. "Damien, there is nobody in this building other than ourselves. So shut up and come with me." He yanks me out of the bed. Coughing and spluttering a little I attempt to regain my feet. Dex pulls me down white corridor after white corridor- each one emptier than the last. Eventually we get outside where the light puts colours to dance in my eyes. I hadn't realised how dark the hospital was. Men and women- hundreds of them are sparring or training in another way. It all stops as Dex comes outside. With a wave of his hand the scene is reaminated and he pulls me into a large tent. Tossing some clothes in my general direction, which I, by some miracle, catch, he orders me to get changed. The thick camo suits covers my arms and legs with a hood to hide my jet black hair. Dex knocks me out. Minutes later, I awake in a different tent tied to a wooden post. It seems as if all the people who were fighting outside have gathered to create a large mob. General Dex stands at the front of them. "What are you doing? This is illegal," I hiss. Some of the crowd laugh at this, others look at me with confusion. Why would I tell them it's illegal? They're obviously criminals. General Dex steps forward toward me and I tense. "There is no law anymore," with that he slices his blade across my skin. A sudden jolt of electricity sparks i my head quickly replaced with an immense sadness instead of the searing pain I should be feeling. Dex laughs.


End file.
